


Scheduling

by Aurumite



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: First Time, M/M, Premature Ejaculation, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3277130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurumite/pseuds/Aurumite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrom decides it's time to move ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scheduling

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt at fe-kink-meme.

Frederick had come for business, but Chrom still swallowed down the flutter that rose in his throat.

Tonight. He'd make his move tonight.

“I've a tentative schedule for tomorrow, milord.”

“Of course. Please.”

He let the knight sit in the chair at his desk. The night was relatively late but the lantern's light was still bright. Frederick started spreading his charts and lists across the desk, explaining all the different regimens and time restraints. Everything was accounted for, from when Chrom should clean his teeth to what he'd need to accomplish after dinner. Chrom helped, straightening slanted papers into rows that wouldn't bother his old friend, working from the top while Frederick worked from the bottom. Occasionally they reached for the same paper and their hands brushed. Frederick would stop talking to exchange a furtive smile.

“I'm afraid there's no time for this, tomorrow, sire,” he said in a low voice.

“We'll have to make the most of what time we have now, then,” Chrom said back. He crossed behind the chair, resting his hands on Frederick's shoulders. Frederick clasped one wrist to keep him there while he gestured to different documents with his free hand. Despite all the hard work done on his behalf, Chrom couldn't pay attention. Frederick's hair smelled good. Newly-washed. He buried his nose in it.

He wanted him. The broad muscles beneath his hands, the familiar scent, the gentle fingers. Chrom hadn't been able to keep a clear head for days. He was ready. He was _so_ ready.

“I forgot,” Frederick said. “You should have a rest in the morning, since you will need to rise earlier than usual. Careless of me. Perhaps if milord chose to meet with Robin in the afternoon, which would open up the morning for—”

Chrom slid his hands down Frederick's vest, cutting him off.

“I can't concentrate right now,” he breathed.

“Oh?”

“I have to ask you something.”

“Please feel free.”

The words were there, burning on his tongue. Chrom was too embarrassed.

“It's a request.”

“I will do anything, as always, sire.”

The tips of the knight's ears had turned red. Chrom mouthed the rim of one, enjoying how the broad chest beneath his hands swelled and caught, glad Frederick wasn't able to see his own blush. It wasn't much of a risk to take, he told himself, with all the heavy kisses they'd already exchanged.

“Tonight,” he said. “Will you stay?”

Frederick didn't seem to understand, and Chrom still couldn't make himself say it. He moved his lips down to Frederick's jaw, unfastening his tie so he could pull his collar back and access more.

His intent was to fluster, to make Frederick sputter or gasp or lean his head to the side and fall to pieces in Chrom's arms. But the Cold Lieutenant had earned his title well. When Chrom went for his lips, Frederick grasped his chin after a long moment and pried him away, locking their eyes.

“Are you very sure,” he said, softly but so sternly it was hardly a question.

Chrom should have known. Frederick took everything seriously. He wasn't going to jump into an amorous night without preparations.

“Very sure,” Chrom answered. He didn't look away and was rewarded when Frederick's hand fell away and his blush returned and his gaze dropped.

“I am honoured,” he said, and his voice quavered in a way that made Chrom want to stroke his face. “Overjoyed. How would milord prefer it?”

“With you,” Chrom teased. “And not calling me 'milord.'”

“I meant—with our mouths or—or something more...penetrative, and if so, who—”

“Gods, Frederick, it doesn't _matter_.” Chrom kissed him again, hard, and the pressure he felt back meant Frederick was done hashing out details. Thank Naga.

The knight was standing in an instant and they were fumbling with buttons, pausing to grasp at clothing each time their tongues met. Chrom couldn't help but moan at how their bodies felt pressed together, and although Frederick was quieter, his hands roamed faster. He wouldn't have guessed Frederick would ever grab his ass without express permission, but he was pleased with the surprise. He ground his hips forward encouragingly, though he had to pull back to get Frederick's vest and shirt fully off. There was a whuff as his own cape hit the ground and Frederick was already peeling back his surcoat, laying his lips against each new bit of skin.

As they kissed again, out of new things to adore for the moment, Chrom chided himself for not trying to make out shirtless earlier. Everything was better like this: their bodies radiating warmth, every ridge of muscle, every snatched breath between their kissing pressing their chests closer together. There was even a scent he hadn't truly noticed before, something coming off their skin, dark and sweet. Frederick's mouth left his again to make a wet trail down his neck and chest.

“What do you want, my lord?” he murmured as he went. “Command me. I'm yours.”

Chrom didn't like ordering his friends around but this one came without hesitation:

“Touch me.”

Frederick kissed him hard as his hand slipped between Chrom's legs, and Chrom moaned loudly into his mouth. He ground into Frederick's hand as the knight palmed him, rubbing him through the fabric of his pants. If he was already this lightheaded, he wasn't sure what he'd do when the pants came off.

“The cot,” he gasped, and they were on it at once, him on top, groaning as gravity pulled his hips down into Frederick's. The knight's hair was a mess. He tried to reach Chrom's cock again, but it was impossible with them pressed so firmly together, and he had to give up, fingers instead clutching Chroms' back. Chrom sucked at his collarbone until color rose to the surface.

“Milord, you should—” Frederick tried to roll them over, but Chrom pinned him down, grinning when Frederick glared up at him.

“You're too competitive.”

“Milord should be pleased first.”

“ _This_ pleases me.” Chrom sat up and straddled him, arching his back to kiss lower.

“But—”

He kept going, kissing down Frederick's chest and hard stomach in no particular path, just enjoying himself. Sometimes Frederick bucked his hips up, but kneeling over him like he was, Chrom was just barely out of reach. Occasionally he dipped back down to meet the man halfway, always delighting in the shock of pleasure the pressure caused. Frederick's little gasps had turned to moans when Chrom finally ran his tongue experimentally over a nipple.

“Milord—”

Chrom sucked.

“Please, I have to—you can't— I should—“

_Hard_.

“Chrom!” Frederick arched, one hand weaving through Chrom's hair, anchoring him down, while the other slipped beneath his waistband and grasped him.

“Oh,” Chrom breathed. It was every good thing he could think of, a blazing fire in the winter, a cool rain in the summer, a chapped but gentle first kiss with an old friend he'd admired for years. He went back to that memory, kissing Frederick's mouth, sliding his tongue in, thrusting into his hand, bringing his hips down low enough to press their lengths together again. Just once. Twice.

“Chrom—” Frederick tried, one last time, but the sound of his naked name was too good and Chrom ground down again, just a taste of how it would feel when he took Frederick's cock into his mouth, or perhaps just took Frederick entirely, and the way the knight shuddered and groaned and clenched his hands in Chrom's hair and said his name so breathlessly told him it would be even more amazing than this.

Wait.

Frederick stopped writhing beneath him and Chrom paused too. The face that looked up at him was flushed—with desire and mortification and utter, utter satisfaction.

“No,” Chrom said, narrowing his eyes. “No, not yet.”

“I'm sorry.” Frederick's eyes squeezed shut. “I tried to tell milord.”

“You have no stamina? _You?_ After all that training you put the Shepherds through—put _me_ through? After all your talk of stamina?”

He was incredulous, not angry, but Frederick rolled away like he thought a royally-commanded beheading was coming.

“Please forgive me. You were just too perfect.”

Chrom chuckled and slipped an arm around him. “Well, when you say it like that...”

He dipped his hand into the other's pants to feel him, grazing his fingers up and down Frederick's now-sticky length, still sizable even as he softened. He could feel the knight's pleasant shudder. He had to admit,

“I actually...kind of like the thought that I could overwhelm you like that. Besides, we have all night.”

Frederick looked back over his shoulder, and Chrom gave him the sultriest smile he could manage while he rubbed his thumb hard over Frederick's wet, too-sensitive head. The knight's kinks weren't too hard to figure out, and he went for it:

“And you're going to stay up all night with me. If you can't manage to satisfy me, you're going to have to try again and again and _again_ until you can get it right.”

“Are you using my own line against me?” Frederick asked, rolling back to face him. He looked incredulous, and Chrom laughed. “It was intended to refer solely to push-ups, sire.”

“But you're not in charge of how many push-ups I do anymore. _I'm_ in charge. I've been the Shepherd's captain for a long time, my friend. And I say you need remedial training. Immediately.”

“I'm not sure if training is supposed to sound so wonderful.”

Chrom kissed him fondly. When he pulled away, Frederick's eyes were already dark again. To his credit, the knight always did have quite a drive to succeed.

“So what first,” he murmured, “Captain?”

Chrom put a hand on his head and gently pushed. The hint was taken immediately. Frederick slipped out of reach and tugged down his pants. Chrom expected a slow start and grinned when Frederick instead swallowed him down, inch by quick inch, like he was too impatient to even the tally.

His first thought was that he should hold out, be a good example. But Frederick was so eager and sucked so hard and was so deft with his tongue that Chrom just couldn't help himself. Like he'd said, they had all night. They could work up to better things together.  


End file.
